


Saturday Night Shenanigans

by orphan_account



Series: ficlets [10]
Category: Marvel
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Vomiting, drunk! bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:34:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23895403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Tony had just tucked in after two sleepless nights of his final’s project-binge and that’s what keeping him from freaking the fuck out as one should when they hear strange footsteps in his otherwise unoccupied apartment.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Series: ficlets [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1551151
Comments: 8
Kudos: 157





	Saturday Night Shenanigans

Tony had just tucked in.

He had _just_ tucked in after two sleepless nights of his final’s project-binge and that’s what keeping him from freaking the fuck out as one should when they hear strange footsteps in his otherwise unoccupied apartment.

Rhodey’s out for the night. He’s got a hot date and he told Tony to sleep the fuck off before he called Jarvis on him. That much, Tony was sure of.

So, who the fuck was out there?

In his apartment. In the dead of night. When Tony was sleepy and vulnerable and _a-_ fucking- _lone?_

Fuck, his bedroom door is ajar. Fuck.

Consciously, nothing’s functioning so subconsciously Tony sunk in, wishing the mattress would just do both him and the intruder cum possible murderer a favour and swallow him whole.

Which reminded him – There’s an intruder in his apartment!

And Rhodey’s out and Tony’s alone and he should – fuck, he couldn’t even remember what he should do. Cognitively, he’s _dead_.

But the intruder was very much alive. As indicated by his bounding footsteps, a slip which Tony could only guess him tripping and a slurred out ‘fuck’.

Okay, first off, whoever that was, they could murder him.

Chop him up into pieces and throw his flesh for the crows to feed on – too much?

Okay, maybe that was too much effort. Regardless, he could get _murdered!_

As if Tony’s racing heartbeats lured him in, the intruder’s footsteps grew closer and closer and as Tony started to pay more attention, he noticed there was no steady rhythm to it.

As if the guy’s too drunk to walk.

Aw, hell.

The bedroom door creaked and Tony prayed to high heavens his act of sleeping was convincing enough for the incoming doom.

The footsteps grew heavier, closer and closer and Tony with his hammering heart and forcefully relaxed body avoided flinching when wet, hot breaths fanned across his cheek. Ew.

Followed by the stench of alcohol – oh he could name all of them if his brain was working, alright.

“T-fu you s’h – hic – eep?”

It’s a guy, alright. Deep slurry drawl albeit the disgusting hiccups and belching and before Tony could think some more, the guy seemed to spin in his spot and vomit his entire gut out.

Tony’s eyes snapped open and the sheer horrific sight of his final’s papers dripping with nasty gut content was what finally pulled him onto his feet.

“Oh, for _fuck’s_ sake!” He pushed the clearly drunken stranger away from his study table and immediately began piling plies after plies of tissues on top his papers.

“No, no, no. Not now. No, you fucking bastard.” He chanced a glare at the intruder and was in the process of ignoring his slurred-out apology when Tony paused.

Back up a second there because there was no way –

“Aw, man,” he sagged, with a hand planted to his face.

The disgusting wet plopping sound of the _handsome_ upstairs neighbour’s - who he’s been crushing on for the entire semester in silence – vomit forced him back onto the effort of salvaging his two weeks old effort as the culprit himself daintily passed him more tissues.

“If I lose my grade, I’m gonna force you to marry me,” Tony grumbled as he wiped the thick gastric sludge. “Urgh.”

After maybe ten minutes of continuous wiping, Tony gave up.

“You ruined my final’s paper,” he turned to address his secret crush.

To his credit, the guy looked guilty enough that one could mistake him over a baby’s murder.

“Sorry?”

Tony sighed, giving one last glance in his ruined final’s way. “You know, usually this is my schtick but since you’re too good looking for your own good, Imma let you go.”

The guy hiccupped then covered his mouth with wide eyes looking too adorable for the whole punk-rock style he’d got going, “Sorry, Stevie.”

Tony sagged.

Stevie was whom Tony assumed his crush’s actual boyfriend. Who was also strikingly beautiful with his 6ft tall frame, Goldilock’s blonde hair and pink Irish complexion that burned under the Sun. But. Tony’s crush was better. With _his_ shoulder length brunette locks that looked delish in a man bun and his cutting jawline, pink lips and god forbid, those blue eyes that could hypnotize you on your feet –

Which was exactly what was happening to Tony because _what.the.fuck_

Was he seriously comparing his hopeless crush with his boyfriend? Jeez.

Shaking his head, Tony pulled back into focus, “Listen tiger, I’m not your Stevie and this is not your home okay?”

“Is that why your ass looks so perfect?”

Tony blinked.

“Er, what?” No way good-looking just said that –

“Cuz your ass be rocking, Stevie,” Good-looking continued with renewed fervour as he grabbed onto Tony’s hips and turned him around, whistling under his breath. “Usually it’s anchovies’ bum but tonight it’s all puffer fish, dude.”

Tony yelped and turned around when his rear got a loud appreciative-smack.

“Round like our downstairs doll-face but you ain’t downstairs doll-face, Stevie,” Good looking shook his head, wallowing in his faraway disappointment as his whole body began to sag with it.

“No roundness ‘s as round as my doll-face’s, Steve. Ain’t nuthin can compare.”

Stumped, Tony opened and closed his mouth willing something smart to roll out of his tongue. But nothing did.

Not even as he watched good-looking stumble over his own feet before plonking heavily onto Tony’s bed and proceeded to tuck himself in.

Ater the first round of snore kicked in, a weak ‘okay’ was all Tony managed before his knees gave out on him.

-

For a blissful second, Tony actually forgot what happened until he realised the thing that woke him up was the doorbell and then a sudden wave of memories from last night whooshed in along with the strong stench of vomit.

Honestly, he didn’t know if the memory of the stench was worse or if it actually still smelled that bad even now.

Another shrill ring and he stood up from the chair he didn’t remember sitting on and nodding off to get the door.

The fresh waft of lemon fragrance hit him the moment he pulled the door open and Tony breathed in greedily.

Then he realised just how bad his entire apartment must reek for him to react that way and proceeded to feel even worse when he saw who was ringing his door in the middle of the fucking night.

“Hey, sorry for waking you up but is there any chance that my friend came here?” Handsome face No.2 from upstairs a.k.a good-looking’s boyfriend asked.

Tony glared too long at the increasingly pinking high cheekbones before words started sinking in.

But handsome face No.2 was already speaking again, relentlessly polite and apologetic and -

Wait. Didn’t good-looking waxed shitty poetry about _Tony’s_ ass last night? Did that mean he was still taken or –

“- I mean, I wouldn’t disturb you but I saw his phone outside your door. This. And -,” Handsome face No.2 was waving a smartphone at Tony’s face now, “He had too much to drink and I just don’t want him dead, you know?”

This time when he stopped, he actually stopped until Tony, like an illiterate Neanderthal grunted, “Uh? Um-”

Work, brain. _Work!_

“He. Um. I mean, yeah. Your friend is inside.” Then he realised how he might sound like he’d kidnapped a lost drunken guy and corrected himself.

“I mean. He passed out inside. After – uh – vomiting and -,”

“Oh geez,” Handsome face No.2 sounded really guilty now. Big blue puppy eyes and sad little pouty lips that made Tony brush everything off – even his guaranteed failed final’s paper. Jesus. Fucking. Christ. He forgot about that.

“Is he…?”

Tony jolted back into reality, pulling the door open wider after a few seconds of lagging in normal humanly function – whatever the fuck that was supposed to be.

“Yeah, um. This way.”

“Sorry,” Handsome face No.2 said as he stepped in. Then again, “Sorry,” when he walked into Tony’s bedroom where it abso-fucking-lutely reeked.

But he brightened up upon spotting his pal. “Aw man, really sorry. He’s not usually like that.”

“It’s fine,” Tony waved him off, looking glumly at his vomit-crusted final’s paper.

Then with a remarkable ferocity, handsome face No.2 _barked_ – oh he definitely barked cause no human be producing sound like that -,

“ **BUCKY!”**

\- and Tony felt like his entire soul got fucking astral-projected out of his body, washed, rinsed, double washed, double rinsed and pushed back into his body that when he blinked, he started seeing everything under a brand-new light.

Coffee, who?

But the real miracle was the still snoring Mr good-looking ‘Bucky’.

“Sorry,” Handsome face No.2 a.k.a the barking terror apologized with that same puppy eyes that Tony had a hard time connecting that sound to his innocent face.

When he detected the guy gearing up for another soul crushing bark, Tony interfered.

“Hey, you know what? Let him sleep it off. I’ll make him call you after he’s awake and able to… walk -er, himself or something.”

Baby face grew concerned, “No I can’t possibly ask you that -,”

“Nobody’s asking. I’m offering.” Tony minced before he blubbered something rude like ‘Plus I don’t want others complaining from loud noises at the crack of dawn on a weekend’s night’.

“You sure?”

“Hundred percent.”

And after an awkward exchange of gratitude mixed with apologies and slight remorse, Tony shut the door on Handsome face No.2 and set to copy his work onto a set of new vomit-free papers.

-

It’s early afternoon, going late morning when sleeping beauty finally rose to consciousness.

“You know, for a while there I thought I’m gonna have to confess to murder.”

Sleep rumpled and generously hungover his crush still looked hot as fuck. Tony offered him the glass of water he’d uncharacteristically but caringly – if Rhodey saw him now, he’d demand who the fuck he was – placed on the nightstand somewhen between rewriting his papers.

Good-looking took the glass with a mumbled thanks and gulped it down loudly whilst Tony studied the art that’s his throat-work.

Good-looking finished his drink and blurted out, “Murdered by you? ‘D be my honor, darlin’,” completely sober, no slur what so ever that Tony was stumped for the second time in row of their very first meeting.

Then his adorable crush had to be oh so precious by clamping his mouth shut with that same wide-eyed expression he pulled last night that Tony barked out a laugh.

His cheeks got so hot and red from the shame of the inhumanly sound of his laughter but Tony could not fucking stop the giggle fit that followed after. Even as his crush began to loosen up and laugh – with him or at him, he’s not sure but dear lord, he could not stop.

When he did, finally, he wiped the tears off his eyes and hiccupped, “You vomited all over my final’s paper and I hate you but you’re too gorgeous for me to carry the grudge.”

It’s out of sheer giddiness from the laughing fit but Tony could never forgive himself for saying that aloud.

“Oh.” Good-looking perked up.

His man bun’s messy with strands sticking out stiffly. He reeked of vomit and there’s a questionable stain on his chin but oh _god_ did he leer so prettily.

“So, you think I’m gorgeous and I think you’re stunning. Wanna go out on a date with me?”

Tony swallowed his grin and pushed back steady, “Only if you don’t vomit on me.”

-

Later when Rhodey returned from Carol's and gagged at the stench of their shared apartment, Tony would blame him from leaving the door unlocked.

-

Much much later, when Bucky Barnes took him for sushi for their first date, Tony'd suffer another laughing fit recounting his drunken comment of 'Stevie's anchovy turned puffer fish bum'.

-

When he shared that bit with Steve, month's later, Steve would tell him all about Bucky's addiction to sushi. After ten dates and counting - six which featured sushi - Tony'd be compelled to agree.

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by the drunken! sebastian stan thread and 
> 
> my own experience of getting the apartment intruded because my then housemate didn't shut the door with enough force so it stayed ajar and in my case it was a Saturday morning instead of night and instead of Bucky (no matter how i wish) i'd still won't exchange the big bounding surprise in the form of my neighbour's BIG dog who loved me enough to give a wake up call.
> 
> Yes, i tried to pretend sleep.
> 
> yes, i was aware i could have been murdered if it hadn't only been the harmless baby
> 
> yes, i know, i know.... i'm not gonna change tho hehe


End file.
